Chapter 1
Isaac’s POV
With heavy breaths and a rapidly beating heart, I glided towards the hockey puck and smacked it with my stick as hard as I could. It flew across the ice and bounced off the wall several feet away from the goal.
Another miss. I’d lost track of how many of those I’d had this week alone. In frustration, I threw my stick to the ground and gently began circling the rink.
Usually when I was out on the ice, nothing else seemed to matter. Everything seemed to melt away, and all I had to focus on was the sound of my breathing and the rapid beating of my heart as I did what I did best. It had always been like that with hockey. The moment that I had first stepped out onto a rink with a stick and a puck, I just had this feeling that I was where I was meant to be. It had always been a comfort, something that I could lean on when things were tough.
I missed those days. Lately, if I had a day where I could actually play hockey without messing up and making myself look like a fool, it was quite literally a miracle. Now, I was lucky if I could get through one practice without being bombarded by my thoughts. Thoughts that made me miserable, made the sport that I’d loved since a kid slowly become a nightmare
I gasped in surprise when I stumbled and almost face planted into the ice. After I had caught myself, I turned to see what I had tripped over. My stick. I rolled my eyes at myself. Are you kidding, Isaac?
I needed to get a grip. I had a month and a half until I was leaving for the University of Georgia, and if I started off playing like this, the coach and the rest of the team were going to think that I was a joke. That they gave their full-ride athletic scholarship to the wrong hockey player. I would kicked off the team before they’d even given me a chance. I couldn’t let that happen.
I considered just calling it a night and heading home. Everyone else on the team had left hours ago when practice had officially ended. I had watched as the teammates that I’d played with for years slowly made their way to the locker room, looking back at me with worried gazes, wondering what was up with their team captain. I tried to ignore all of their stares, but the truth was, I couldn’t stand them. It felt like they could see right through me, that they knew the secret I was carrying with me. The thought of that was chilling.
Sighing, I made my way over to the bench and checked my phone. My phone screen was flooded with text messages.
“What are you wearing to the party tomorrow night, baby? I want to make sure we match.”
“Why haven’t you liked my Instagram post from yesterday?”
“Shouldn’t you be home from practice by now?
“Fine. Ignore me. I don’t know what’s been going on with you lately, but I’m not going to deal with it for much longer.”
I blankly stared down at the last message for several seconds. My thumb hovered over the screen for a couple seconds, contemplating whether or not I should respond with some half-assed excuse. Then, I shut my phone completely off and threw it back into my bag before heading back out on the ice. She wouldn’t be texting me anymore after tomorrow night, anyways.
What Georgia, my girlfriend of 6 months, didn’t realize is that she was the problem. Well, partially the problem.
Georgia Bailey was the world’s definition of a “perfect catch.” Perfect body, perfect face, perfect smile. On the outside, there were no flaws to be found. And I liked that at first. In fact, that was what made me want her. No one was perfect, but everyone wanted to be, right?
Over time, though, I began to resent this perfection. It’s a lot of work, trying to be perfect. Not only did Georgia have to be perfect, but as Georgia’s boyfriend, I had to be the same. Whatever Georgia wore to a party, I had to be wearing a matching shade of it. It looks good in pictures, she told me once. Every selfie posted on her Instagram was to be personally liked and commented on by me so she could get more likes. Every single thing I did had to match her in some way, shape, or form. I was defined by her. And I couldn’t stand it.
I was the furthest thing from perfect. No matter how hard I tried, the person who I was on the inside would never allow me to truly be Georgia Bailey’s boyfriend in the way that she wanted or needed. Which is why tomorrow night when we went to the party with matching outfits, I was going to dump her. It was time.
It just wasn’t going to work out. In fact, it never really worked out. I’d done this how many times now, with how many different girls? No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, it always ended up like this.
I knew that she would be upset. They were always upset. No one wanted to be broken up with by the captain of the hockey team. But it always ended up being okay. By the next week, they were already dating someone else that made them forget all about the break up. It wouldn’t be any different with Georgia, I was sure of that.
I hated that I didn’t care more about the break up. It made me feel like an ass. I wanted to care about my relationship. I wanted to care about Georgia. I did care about her...just not in the way that a boyfriend should care about their girlfriend. When it came to feelings for any of my past girlfriends, I could never manage to fake it, could never even try. Deep down, I knew the reason why.
I shook my head to try and rid myself of my thoughts, knowing that that was next to impossible. Okay, back to hockey. I crouched low and started skating as fast as I could towards the puck, which was still over by the wall. I was going to get it in the goal this time.
Behind me, I heard what sounded like the creak of the door opening. I ignored it. I wasn’t going to let any more distractions get in the way. I was tired of them ruining my career. My eyes didn’t leave the puck, and I gripped my stick as hard as I could just like I had done a million times before.
The next couple of seconds were a blur. I had been reaching out my stick to hit the puck, and then before I knew it, I was staring up at the ceiling. My eyes were blinded by the bright lights on the rink, and my ears were ringing at a pitch that made my head pound. I suddenly felt something warm and wet sliding down my temple and into my hairline. I reached out and swiped at it before holding my fingers up in front of my eyes.
Blood.
Then, a high pitched, breathy laugh filled the silence of the hockey rink.
Andre’s POV
I put my car in park and leaned back into my seat, glaring at the doors of the hockey rink that I had to go through in less than 5 minutes to start my shift.
“Why did you think it was a good idea to apply for hockey rink cleaner, Andre?” I mumbled to myself. “Out of all the places you could have worked. The ice rink, really?” My car responded with silence.
Truthfully, I didn’t hate the job that badly. It was only a couple of hours after school every day, and it gave me some extra spending money, which was nice. The best part of it all was that I got to work by myself. I didn’t have to talk to anyone. By the time I got there every night, hockey practice was over and the rink was deserted.
I liked being by myself. I never had to carry on a conversation, or worry about what I wore or how I looked when I was on the zamboni, which I knew was ridiculous and embarrassing. In fact, sometimes cleaning the hockey rink was soothing, almost. Even though I had slipped and fallen way too many times to count, when I was out on the ice, everything wasn’t as...loud as it usually was.
I knew that the only reason I was complaining about the job was because of my anxiety, which I had sarcastically nicknamed “Louise.” Louise was the voice in my head that loved to get me worked up. If it were up to Louise, I wouldn’t have a job at all. I probably would never leave the house, either. The house is safe, and the world outside of the house is terrifying, according to her.
You know it’s true, she chimed in. I’m just trying to protect you.
As if to give me a friendly reminder of this, a tremor ran through my hands, remnants of the panic attack that I had had about 20 minutes before driving over here. I wish I would’ve known what this one was about. Sometimes, I’m able to tell what triggers them, and other times, they come out of the blue and hit me across the face. Tonight, it was the latter.
It’s fun to keep you guessing, Andre, Louise joked.
Maybe it was because I woke up late this morning and had to rush to get to school. Or it could have been triggered when I was walking to geometry class and I accidently stumbled over my feet in the hallway. Honestly, it could have even happened because I got a stain on one of my new shirts and I didn’t know if it was going to come out in the wash or not. My guess was that it was a combination of all three. Louise liked to be extra like that.
Sighing, I pushed open my car door and stepped out. As I began walking towards the doors, I glanced up in the windows and was surprised that the lights in the rink were still on. Usually when I got here, the building was dark.
“Stupid hockey players can’t even shut off the damn lights,” I muttered as I pushed open the door with my shoulder. I only made it one step inside before I froze.
There was a hockey player out on the ice. They were in full gear and skating in circles, twirling their stick mindlessly in their gloved hands. I could see the hockey puck lying on the other end of the rink.
I looked down at my watch to make sure I hadn’t gotten the time wrong and came to my shift early. Nope, that was right. 9 pm. I knew that practice ended for the players around 6 or 7. So what was this guy still doing here?
I instinctively crouched down when the hockey player turned towards me, terrified of being caught even though I had every right to be here. As the player continued to skate around, I began to get a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. Louise began bombarding me with questions.
What are we going to do? Are you going to go tell him he needs to get off the ice? Who is it? Do you have the courage to go talk to them? What if they say no? Should you just leave and not work tonight? Then you’ll get in trouble, though, right? What are we going to do, Andre?
I took a deep, shaky breath, trying to ground myself and ignore Louise’s questions. Then, the hockey player reached up and took off their helmet.
It was Isaac Davis.
My fear grew tenfold. Not only did I have to go out there and tell a hockey player that they had to finish practicing, but now I had to tell the captain of the hockey team to finish practicing hockey. Could this be any worse?
In desperation, I pulled out my phone and went on Snapchat. With shaking fingers, I opened up my best friend’s messages and typed, “Kate, HELP.”
She responded almost instantly. “What’s wrong???”
“I’m supposed to clean the rink rn and Isaac Davis is practicing” I typed back, looking up every couple of seconds to make sure that I hadn’t been spotted.
“OMG send a video!!” She said automatically. I sighed. That’s not the kind of advice that I needed right now, Kate.
“But what should I do????” I ignored her request, hoping the amount of question marks I added would indicate my desperation.
“VIDEO” was all that she said back.
I looked up just in time to see Isaac putting his helmet back on and turning around to face the puck. If there was ever a good time to get a video for Kate, it was now. Quickly, I exited out of the chat and turned the camera to face the rink before pressing down with my thumb to record.
Isaac crouched low and started making a beeline towards the puck. He moved with the grace and speed of someone who had been playing this sport all their lives. Andre watched through his phone screen as Isaac got closer and closer to the wall, waiting for him to crack the puck with his stick and brake in a flurry of flying ice.
Except, he didn’t stop. In amazement, I watched as Isaac flew face first into the wall of the hockey rink. The Plexiglass around the rink connected with Isaac’s helmet and made a terrible noise that echoed throughout the entire building. Then, Isaac flailed backwards and fell onto the ice in a tangle of limbs and hockey gear. His stick skidded across the ice and into the goal. Isaac lay there limp. The puck was still in the same spot that it had been in before.
Before I could stop myself, a loud and obnoxious giggle erupted from my lips. I had seen hockey players fall before. They fall all the time, and it’s usually no big deal. But the way that Isaac Davis, the captain of the hockey team, just fell? That was something that you didn’t see every day. Honestly, it was pretty funny.
My laughter quickly sputtered out and died, though, when Isaac ripped off his helmet, looked up, and immediately laid eyes on me. I stopped recording and shoved my phone into my pocket, too afraid to look away. I could see the rage and embarrassment in his eyes from all the way across the court.
When he rose to his knees, I started running.
I skidded into the boy’s locker room in a frenzy, my eyes frantically looking around for a place to hide. Could I fit into a locker? I started towards one, and began trying to squeeze inside. My leg bent an awkward way and pain shot up into my groin. Swearing, I backed up and hobbled over to the other side of the locker room towards the bathrooms.
I yanked open one of the stalls and hoisted myself up on the toilet seat. As I reached forward to lock the door, my injured foot slipped into the bowl, immediately soaking my shoe. At that moment, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I honestly felt like I could do both at the same time.
Out of options, I backed into the corner of the locker room and began to pray. Oh god, please don’t find me, please don’t find me, please don’t find me. Maybe he didn’t actually see me. I mean, he looked at me, but maybe he didn’t see me recording. Even though my phone was right in front of my stupid face. Please, please, please.
Louise was blabbing her mouth off in my head, reminding me of the consequences that would come from what I’d just done.
Oh, you’ve really done it now, Andre. You already were a loser at school. But now? Now, after the captain of the hockey team catches you taking a video of him falling? You’re toast. Complete toast. There’s no way you’re going to be able to make it until graduation. You have to switch schools, change your name, maybe even move out of the country. I hope that video was worth it.
With trembling hands, I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my phone. When I unlocked it, the video immediately began playing. I watched it over again with wide eyes. I couldn’t believe that I had just gotten that on video.
Kate was blowing up my phone, wondering what had happened and if I had gotten the video. Ignoring her texts, I just sent, “SOS!!”
I heard the sound of angered footsteps rounding the corner, and I turned just in time to see Isaac coming into the locker room. He had taken off his helmet and all of his pads, leaving him just in his uniform. His hair was tousled into a sweaty mess that hung down into his raging eyes. A line of blood was drying on his temple. His helmet must have done that when he hit the wall.
I felt like I was going to be sick. I was frozen, but it felt like my entire body was shaking all over. I tried to swallow, but my throat acted like it was closed and I ended up choking on my own spit. I backed away slightly and began coughing, and Isaac took one step closer.
I’m going to have another panic attack, I thought miserably. I pictured Louise nodding enthusiastically. This was her time to shine.
“Andre, right?” Isaac spoke in a low, threatening voice. I could count on my hands the number of times I had heard him speak, and none of them had ever sounded like that. Usually, he sounded upbeat, flirty, and cocky, especially when he had to give presentations for class or be interviewed for the school newspaper. I knew that the Isaac standing in front of me right now was not the Isaac that everyone at school got to see, know, and love.
“Answer me, Andre.” Isaac spoke again, this time with gritted teeth. Through my blinding panic, I was shocked that he knew my name. When I didn’t respond again, he took another step closer.
I began to run. I don’t know why I thought that was a good idea, or why I even thought that I could outrun one of the most athletic people in school, but I did it anyway. Louise didn’t really give me a choice. This was a fight or flight moment, and her and I both knew that fighting wasn’t something that I was capable of.
I made it probably 2 steps before a strong arm wrapped around my torso and yanked me backwards. I flew like a ragdoll into the wall of lockers, the back of my head colliding with the metal. The resounding ting! that filled the locker room made my ears roar, and my head instantly began throbbing in pain.
I groaned, and forced my eyes to flutter open. Isaac was standing right in front of me, our noses only a few feet apart. He placed his arms on either side of my shoulders and pushed inwards, securing me in place against the lockers. Then, he bent his head down so we were eye to eye, and spoke in a low, growling tone.
“Do you mind telling me, Andre, why the hell you were just taking a video of me on your phone?”
